[ She gets a request for a video call a few minutes later. When she answers, what greets her is his apartment's living room table, upon which sits a three-dimensional aetherial illusion of Amaurot. The great city's sprawl peters out at the distant edges. The vision includes the Capitol building along with that tall skyscraper which rises above everything else together with their city's immense, curved spires.
It is all awash with the light blue colour neutral aether typically takes on. ]
Emet-Selch is not my name; it is my title. I served as the Architect for our people, which meant I was required to inspect and approve new creations submitted by our people. Almost everything you are familiar with has passed through the hall of the Bureau of the Architect at some point in our history. Every creature, every piece of technology - they are derivations of ideas our people first conjured in their imaginations, distributed for all to use, improve, and build upon.
The only inventions you could truly credit yourselves with would be weapons, for we had no need for such things in our society.
[ She wonders how he's going to show her, assuming quite innocently that he means to just show her drawings or sketches—
What she ends up seeing, even on the device, makes her jaw drop in awe.
It's absolutely unlike anything she's ever perceived, and she brings the device close to her to - first try and figure out how he got that all done on his bloody table of all things!!
She finally switches the video on, her expression clearly one of amazement. ]
... you. They. That—??
[ Give her a moment. This is how beyond her intelligence this is. ]
I'm coming over!!!
[ And the feed shuts off, only to come on a few seconds later. ]
[ He purses his lips, about to voice an objection to the sudden, unexpected visit when she ends the call. Thankfully she sheepishly reconnects a moment later. ]
If all you want is to see this diorama then I will come to where you are, [ he says rather testily. He had never been one for unannounced or surprise visits, and Felih had moved in by this point. ]
Ugh, fine. It's [ Here ] — [ She sends him where she's currently at— which is the apartment building issued to dominants but that's not where she actually spends most of her time. She just has it for her Submissives to stay in. ] But come to the rooftop in that building!!
[ Honestly she doesn't even care where, she really wants to see how he did that.
What he will see when he arrives at the rooftop will be a rather pretty little outdoor tent and garden space. She seems to grow a lot of things here, including at her clinics and at the upper and basement level of the cafe building.
She has to supply herself somehow! The tent seems to at least be protected enough, elevated slightly and inside she's arranged some fairy lights and cushion piles to lounge in while she works.. as well as certain stuffed toys that she likes sewing up. Books of all sorts seem to surround the spaces (many with some very good looking men on the covers, others with more medical topics), as well as sketches and doodles. It just looks like something someone who prefers to live outdoors would have!
[ The location surprises him. He thought she would be elsewhere in the city and that he would have to teleport to her. Instead he can easily take the elevator up to the top floor and ascend the stairs to the roof.
(He briefly entertains skipping even that step and teleporting straight up there but decides he cannot be bothered.)
Once up there, he takes a moment to examine the garden. He vaguely recognises a few plants but has not the expertise of Halmarult to know further. Then he calls out to Megumi. ]
[ She blinks from where she's sitting on the arranged rooftop benches by the high wall edges, having settled back in once he told her he'd come to her instead. She gives him a wave when she looks up and sees him arrive, hopping to her feet and moving over to him. ]
I can give myself a few hours to enjoy myself too, you know!
[ Yes she's usually always working but she can't be inspired on no relaxation fuel! ]
Being up here is a lot nicer than being cooped up inside. Look!
[ She points out to the sky beyond the railing. ]
It's almost time for all the lights to come on. Watch them with me!
[ It is around sunset and there are some building lamps that will turn on around the rooftop. Her tail is swaying eagerly as she rushes to the edge and stands there, looking out to the city beyond. ]
This place is rotten to the core most of the time, but from up here, it's like little fireflies waking up! Pretty isn't it?
[ It's not like she'd get to see this back home so she's always fascinated by the sight of the evening city. ]
[ He trails behind at a more sedate pace, coming to a halt at the safety rail with his arms loosely folded. It is not unlike the view he would have once enjoyed from his own lodgings in Amaurot - sometimes alone, sometimes with company. With how soft the lights of the city had been, they had still been able to enjoy a mostly full canopy of stars.
But Duplicity's illumination is over-bright, glaring and garish, determined to outshine these distant lights . He lifts his gaze to the firmament as the sun sets beyond the city skyline and the streets beneath them flicker to life. He can barely make out a few glittering specks amidst the night's darkening canvas.
He sighs and drops his eyes to the city instead. He supposes it would be pretty to someone who knows no better. All he can see is an ugly parody of Amaurot. ]
I suppose, [ he says vaguely, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. He turns away from it before he can dwell too deeply. Even the little garden she has created is far more interesting to look at in comparison. ]
[ To be fair, she can't really look once the lights grow too bright, but she does come up here because she can see the stars a whole lot better than she could down below. She elbows him gently as she turns, the softer glow of the rooftop lamps she's placed beginning to light up around the flower planters there. ]
Don't worry. I can't look for long either. It's only nice once the lights are coming on, but it's harder to see the sky if I'm down there.
[ She moves away from the railing, ears flicking as she picks up her sketchbook and device. ]
It's not the same though. I'd be able to map the stars back home. Here, I was only able to do it once all the lights had turned off once, many moons back. Anyroad!
[ She shifts ahead of him, motioning to the open space between the large roof surface. ]
... something wrong, Emmy? Or... you said that was a title... how many names do you have, Ser Architect?
[ Maybe asking him about his home made him feel bad? ]
[ He nods in absent agreement with her remark about the stars. It is a pity that the native citizens here are blinded to the beauty of their world. ]
I have as many titles and names as lives I had to live. [ He paces back towards her tent, flicking his hand dismissively. ] But my original title is Emet-Selch, as I told you. Architect, Angel of Truth, denizen of the Underworld, and so on and so forth.
[ He'd rather talk about those than admit to his dissatisfaction with the current state of things. He doesn't feel like having that tired argument again. ]
You wanted to see my city, did you not? [ There is ample empty space up here. Hell, he can have it hover in the air if he so pleases, but he chooses to snap his fingers at a vacant, flat piece of ground and bring back his small-scale illusion of Amaurot. ]
[ Angel of Truth and Denizen of the Underworld— she's about to ask about that, when he snaps his fingers and—
Well, she's back to staring in awe around it. There's definitely more room for him to display what he's created, and she she backs up to look at it, now able to see it more clearly. ]
... this is... bloody hells. You lived here?
[ With the evening sky, his presentation of the city is standing out even more. For now, she's not even questioning how he made this— he's mentioned creation magics before, after all. With a wiggle of her ears, she lifts her device to snap some flash-less photographs. ]
I couldn't believe what I was seeing when I saw it on the device... but this is just...
[ She crouches, wanting to look at the streets and pathways in there. ]
Duplicity has nothing on this... look at those lovely spirals around that tower! And that glow—
[ A hand goes to her cheek as she takes in the sight. ]
Emmy, this is beautiful. Where did you stay? And work? Did you design any of these towers?
[ A quiet huff. ] No, I did not design them. By the time I took the seat, there was very little for me to improve upon with regards to the city's structure and make.
[ She is free to walk right into the city model as well since none of it has a physical presence. He will remain at the fringes of the sprawling metropolis, gazing at it with a pinch of longing while she takes her pictures.
At her prompting, he points out a building some ways from the tallest landmark. It lights up briefly for her benefit. Another building, a short distance from the Bureau and distinctly apartment-like, also lights up. ]
The Bureau of the Architect. I was granted residence nearby.
[ He pauses, thinking, then points out the Capitol building. ] We would convene here, I and the rest of the Fourteen, to discuss matters of import. 'Tis but a short walk away from Akademia Anyder, our most esteemed place of learning and creation, overseen by those given the honour of the title of Lahabrea.
[ As soon as she knows it's alright to, she does, step in closer to look around it, ears lifting in wonder when he begins to point out the places personal to him. The bureau, huh... and the Akademia...
She does seem to be completely fascinated as she steps around. ]
Lahabrea... huh, that was the name— erm, title of the person you were irritated at in that vision I saw.
[ With this being a place that existed beyond time, having been the home of creation even before any of them... ]
What did you all look like in here, then? A fancy place like this would have to have some fancy form of dress, right? Something sharp and stylish!
[ He snaps his fingers again and this time it is his own self which he glamours over. Unable to actually change the clothing itself here, he drapes himself in the illusion of a plain, dark grey robe with a wide cowl and pale inner lining. His mask though - that is real, summoned from where he keeps it at the apartment: red and stern and clearly the only substantial part of the outfit. ]
The citizens would wear plain white masks. The Convocation wore red so that they could be identified.
[ He presses lips together and narrows his eyes at her reaction. Many, many years of having their garb indirectly scorned leaves him inclined to aggressively defend it.
Shutting his eyes for a few moments, he takes a few meditative breaths and lets them out slowly. His response, even after that, is clipped and restrained. ]
A uniform? No. 'Tis as much our cultural garb as whatever it is you Miqo'te wear.
[ He snaps his fingers and conjures several generic figures in a line outside Amaurot's sprawl: one member of each of Hydaelyn's races with random genders, bearing different clothing to mark out their professions. ]
Tell me: what would you think of each of these people if you met them? Generalisations are fine.
[ She's learnt pretty quickly that jumping to the first kneejerk conclusion would be pretty bad where it comes to him. So far, whenever he's told her something, it's always had something far deeper to explain the reasoning behind it.
So, she turns to look at the generic figures, her ears lifting as she examines them. ]
What would I think..?
[ That they're just how people are? They have their professions and identities... but she has a feeling she'll be learning soon enough on where this goes. So she circles around them. ]
In general? They're just people presenting themselves with unique identifiers. The elezen here looks like he's a weaver. This one looks like a rich merchant. He's ostentatious! And this hyur looks like she's seen better days, but seems to be very into her art from the apron with paint on it.
[ Generalizations. But she turns to look over at him. ]
But that's what I think they do. It doesn't necessarily make them what their appearances show them to be, aye?
[ So... she tilts her head. ]
If that's your cultural garb... would that mean you all dressed the same, because you didn't want people assuming things about what you offered?
[ He has to grudgingly acknowledge she is taking his words to heart and thinking things over. He nods as he waves away the figures, as well as his own illusory robes, with a gesture. The mask, he removes and holds on to. ]
Correct. These masks the Convocation wore are only distinct because they are recognition of the unique talents and skills we nurtured or happened to be born with. We were all paragons of our respective fields.
[ He crosses his arms, taking a moment to settle his thoughts. If she is going to make the effort to listen then the least he can do is give her level answers. ]
For example... I was born with the ability to perceive aether in its truest form. There are few magicks or souls able to escape my gaze. This is how I repaired your materia, how I would be able to perceive you for who you truly are even if you were to don an entirely different mortal shell.
It was for this singular talent that I was granted the honour of becoming the next Emet-Selch.
Edited (somehow what I thought in my head doesnt match with what I wrote?? thanks fingers) 2019-12-10 11:18 (UTC)
[ Her ears lift in surprise, but after what he asked, she did have to stop and think on why he'd be asking it. So most of these "ancients" were capable of many amazing feats, all of them unique to them. So the only reason to give them an identifier that put them on the same level as each other was...
Huh. That's actually smart. ]
Bloody amazing... I think I follow. By donning those robes, your people didn't let anyone think themselves above the other. The Convocation acknowledged you as being able to do something far more and had you take on the title of Emet-Selch... but you still maintained that equality.
[ She smiles, hands moving together in front of her in a pleased clap. ]
Emmy, that's brilliant! That way no one would want to fight each other. No wonder you wouldn't need weapons! And that ability... so you'd be able to see ghosts? Ah! You'll have to tell me about it proper soon! Though—
[ Wait. She turns back to look at him, her questions lingering on the forefront of her mind. ]
If you gained the title of Emet-Selch, what were you called before then? Didn't you have a birth name? And— your home. What was it called?
[ They had to have had a name for some place this wonderful looking. ]
Edited (I'm going to murder my phone also numbers are hard ) 2019-12-10 12:05 (UTC)
[ Ghosts...? He makes a slight face, wanting to correct her on the terminology. Anyone can see 'ghosts'; they are by definition souls which have manifested in the material world. But of course, she barrels on in her usual fashion and all he can do is roll his eyes and shake his head. Maybe he'll educate her on that topic someday... Even if Lahabrea would have been more suited to the task. ]
Ah...
[ That's right, he hasn't mentioned its name to her yet, has he? He turns back to the ghostly city, laid out on the floor of the rooftop. The only life it has is in his memories now. ]
...It was called Amaurot.
[ He pointedly ignores her query about his name. She is far from having earnt that privilege. ]
[ Can he blame her for being excited about something this fascinating? And she's getting a very clear image of what she could design for his ornament, come to think of it. Though she does notice that he's skipped out on his name... so does he have one? Or is he just hiding it? She wants to ask, but—
Maybe it's because of the vision she had the first time she met, for there was a resonance in their thoughts— but the very name, "Amaurot", makes her stop and mouth it as though she was waiting for him to say it- she's not sure what happens then. It was a feeling that had been lingering when she first saw the city, having wanted to look at it closely as she viewed it, but now, with the name...
It was somewhere in her memories, the Echo likely having drawn it from when she experienced his memories, but it doesn't feel that strange.
Something about it feels nostalgic. ]
Amaurot.
[ She repeats, now that she's not echoing him, a hand moving to over her chest as she tries to reconcile why she's feeling that— she has absolutely no connection to this place, after all. And yet... ]
Call me crazy, but I feel like I knew that.
[ She says honestly— her ears flicking sheepishly as she looks at the glowing city ]
... what happened to it? You don't have to answer now if it's too painful. It's just...
[ She feels odd, all of a sudden, like she's afraid of learning. ]
[ He doubts it, he thinks, still gazing at the small city. Perhaps an echo from whatever memories of his she had seen when they first met in person. They would not remember. Not yet. ]
...It has been several thousand years since it fell.
[ Yet it still hurts. Having to live in the shattered remnants of their star while the lesser races tore each reflection apart for resources or blind hate is like having a barb lodged and driven into one's skin. A painful, constant reminder of their loss.
He has told the tale several times now to different people. He relives the horror every night when he cannot help but fall asleep. The irregular rest is taking a visible toll on him, as she has noticed. ]
It was destroyed. Our own people destroyed it - in their fear and paranoia, the citizens manifested horrific beasts from their own imaginations and those beasts laid waste to the city. 'Twas the same all across the star - Amaurot was amongst the last to fall.
[ As he speaks, the aetherial diorama glows a hellish orange. Miniature therions and other, unfamiliar beasts descend upon Amaurot, burning and razing every building. Skyscrapers toppled and broke upon the slender walkways below, leaving behind ugly, twisted skeletons of a formerly elegant city. All that is missing are the bodies of the dead. ]
[ She's been noticing it for a while, the only reason she hasn't pushed her concern is because— well, she's only known him a little more than a month and while being in this place does tend to expedite one's care...
Well, maybe she should look into bothering him a little bit about it, very soon.
Because what he says makes her pale and the sight of it being ravaged makes her step back in horror, eyes wide as she watches the beautiful space suddenly start to fall apart. The monsters— whatever these creatures are, make her feel sick to see, and she turns to look at Emet-Selch in confusion. ]
Fear and paranoia? Of what? What could have possibly triggered something so horrible?
[ Even if this is just an illusion, she starts feeling a sinking feeling in her chest— for him to have to talk about this at all...
She feels bad for having had to ask but already, seeing just this much was enough to make her fascinated by the place... what did he go through, as being someone who actually lived there? ]
Even now we do not know. By all reports it began with a sound, resonating deep within the star. The outer settlements were the first to go silent. There were reports of creation magicks running unchecked. As this knowledge was disseminated, the people began to formulate wild theories as to the cause, leading to further spontaneous creations, dead townships, and fear.
As Amaurot collapsed around us, we - the Convocation - summoned Zodiark using the lives of half of the survivors. He rewrote the laws of reality and finally put an end to our calamity.
[ Her expression grows serious... a sound? That's a strange thing to be afraid of. Maybe later when she's scribing all this down, she'll be able to think on it a little more but perhaps whatever caused their creation magic to run amok was something that they was affecting their planet too.
The mention of summoning Zodiark reminds her how shaken she was on learning that Zodiark- and Hydaelyn were primals, and she closes her fingers into her palm as she looks at the bow vanishing images of Amaurot. She's quiet for a bit, before looking up at him. ]
You... used the lives... of your own people...
[ Again, this is tough for her to follow, though she does try. ]
You've mentioned the conflict between Hydaelyn and Zodiark... though, I don't understand. If half the survivors lives were used to summon Zodiark, wouldn't a summoning temper those that were in a primal's thrall? At least... that's been my understanding of the primals the beastmen summon.
[ He told her before that they were summoned the same way primals on their home were. She looks back at the rooftop before turning back to watch him. ]
... what happened after your home was gone? What happened to the other ancients?
[ The image of Amaurot darkens, silhouettes of once-proud spires now eerie, skeletal fingers barely visible in the night. ]
Our star was dying, [ he says flatly. ] The calamity had rendered it lifeless. Think of how many crystals it takes for some paltry spawn like Ifrit to be brought into being. Where, do you think, we could have sourced the aether required to bring forth our final, greatest creation if not from ourselves?
[ He rests a hand over his breast, where the heart (and soul) beats. ] They gladly gave their lives so that our people might live on. The Convocation - less the lone individual who stepped down from their seat - had been the one to perform the rite of imbuing the star with its will, thus it was we alone who were tempered by our god when He came into being.
[ His hand drops back to his side. He glances briefly at his mask, sighs, and waves it back to his apartment below. ]
The events which followed, I have already told you. During the battle between Them, Hydaelyn's blow struck at the heart of our deity, our star, and all were divided into the Source and its ten and three reflections. Zodiark was silenced, as was Her purpose. It mattered not who one had lent their voice to: all were sundered except for myself, Lahabrea, and Elidibus.
[ He meets her eyes directly and points at her face. ] Which is to say, every single one of you can trace your lineage back to the fragments of our surviving people. You, and the rest of the sorry mortals which populate the shards, are all that remain of them.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
2/2
It is all awash with the light blue colour neutral aether typically takes on. ]
Emet-Selch is not my name; it is my title. I served as the Architect for our people, which meant I was required to inspect and approve new creations submitted by our people. Almost everything you are familiar with has passed through the hall of the Bureau of the Architect at some point in our history. Every creature, every piece of technology - they are derivations of ideas our people first conjured in their imaginations, distributed for all to use, improve, and build upon.
The only inventions you could truly credit yourselves with would be weapons, for we had no need for such things in our society.
no subject
What she ends up seeing, even on the device, makes her jaw drop in awe.
It's absolutely unlike anything she's ever perceived, and she brings the device close to her to - first try and figure out how he got that all done on his bloody table of all things!!
She finally switches the video on, her expression clearly one of amazement. ]
... you. They. That—??
[ Give her a moment. This is how beyond her intelligence this is. ]
I'm coming over!!!
[ And the feed shuts off, only to come on a few seconds later. ]
... where do you live.
[ Right. That first. ]
no subject
If all you want is to see this diorama then I will come to where you are, [ he says rather testily. He had never been one for unannounced or surprise visits, and Felih had moved in by this point. ]
no subject
[ Honestly she doesn't even care where, she really wants to see how he did that.
What he will see when he arrives at the rooftop will be a rather pretty little outdoor tent and garden space. She seems to grow a lot of things here, including at her clinics and at the upper and basement level of the cafe building.
She has to supply herself somehow! The tent seems to at least be protected enough, elevated slightly and inside she's arranged some fairy lights and cushion piles to lounge in while she works.. as well as certain stuffed toys that she likes sewing up. Books of all sorts seem to surround the spaces (many with some very good looking men on the covers, others with more medical topics), as well as sketches and doodles. It just looks like something someone who prefers to live outdoors would have!
Welcome to the slumber party, Emmy! ]
no subject
(He briefly entertains skipping even that step and teleporting straight up there but decides he cannot be bothered.)
Once up there, he takes a moment to examine the garden. He vaguely recognises a few plants but has not the expertise of Halmarult to know further. Then he calls out to Megumi. ]
Not where I expected to find you.
no subject
I can give myself a few hours to enjoy myself too, you know!
[ Yes she's usually always working but she can't be inspired on no relaxation fuel! ]
Being up here is a lot nicer than being cooped up inside. Look!
[ She points out to the sky beyond the railing. ]
It's almost time for all the lights to come on. Watch them with me!
[ It is around sunset and there are some building lamps that will turn on around the rooftop. Her tail is swaying eagerly as she rushes to the edge and stands there, looking out to the city beyond. ]
This place is rotten to the core most of the time, but from up here, it's like little fireflies waking up! Pretty isn't it?
[ It's not like she'd get to see this back home so she's always fascinated by the sight of the evening city. ]
no subject
But Duplicity's illumination is over-bright, glaring and garish, determined to outshine these distant lights . He lifts his gaze to the firmament as the sun sets beyond the city skyline and the streets beneath them flicker to life. He can barely make out a few glittering specks amidst the night's darkening canvas.
He sighs and drops his eyes to the city instead. He supposes it would be pretty to someone who knows no better. All he can see is an ugly parody of Amaurot. ]
I suppose, [ he says vaguely, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. He turns away from it before he can dwell too deeply. Even the little garden she has created is far more interesting to look at in comparison. ]
no subject
Don't worry. I can't look for long either. It's only nice once the lights are coming on, but it's harder to see the sky if I'm down there.
[ She moves away from the railing, ears flicking as she picks up her sketchbook and device. ]
It's not the same though. I'd be able to map the stars back home. Here, I was only able to do it once all the lights had turned off once, many moons back. Anyroad!
[ She shifts ahead of him, motioning to the open space between the large roof surface. ]
... something wrong, Emmy? Or... you said that was a title... how many names do you have, Ser Architect?
[ Maybe asking him about his home made him feel bad? ]
no subject
I have as many titles and names as lives I had to live. [ He paces back towards her tent, flicking his hand dismissively. ] But my original title is Emet-Selch, as I told you. Architect, Angel of Truth, denizen of the Underworld, and so on and so forth.
[ He'd rather talk about those than admit to his dissatisfaction with the current state of things. He doesn't feel like having that tired argument again. ]
You wanted to see my city, did you not? [ There is ample empty space up here. Hell, he can have it hover in the air if he so pleases, but he chooses to snap his fingers at a vacant, flat piece of ground and bring back his small-scale illusion of Amaurot. ]
no subject
Well, she's back to staring in awe around it. There's definitely more room for him to display what he's created, and she she backs up to look at it, now able to see it more clearly. ]
... this is... bloody hells. You lived here?
[ With the evening sky, his presentation of the city is standing out even more. For now, she's not even questioning how he made this— he's mentioned creation magics before, after all. With a wiggle of her ears, she lifts her device to snap some flash-less photographs. ]
I couldn't believe what I was seeing when I saw it on the device... but this is just...
[ She crouches, wanting to look at the streets and pathways in there. ]
Duplicity has nothing on this... look at those lovely spirals around that tower! And that glow—
[ A hand goes to her cheek as she takes in the sight. ]
Emmy, this is beautiful. Where did you stay? And work? Did you design any of these towers?
[ She can't seem to tear her gaze away from it. ]
no subject
[ She is free to walk right into the city model as well since none of it has a physical presence. He will remain at the fringes of the sprawling metropolis, gazing at it with a pinch of longing while she takes her pictures.
At her prompting, he points out a building some ways from the tallest landmark. It lights up briefly for her benefit. Another building, a short distance from the Bureau and distinctly apartment-like, also lights up. ]
The Bureau of the Architect. I was granted residence nearby.
[ He pauses, thinking, then points out the Capitol building. ] We would convene here, I and the rest of the Fourteen, to discuss matters of import. 'Tis but a short walk away from Akademia Anyder, our most esteemed place of learning and creation, overseen by those given the honour of the title of Lahabrea.
no subject
She does seem to be completely fascinated as she steps around. ]
Lahabrea... huh, that was the name— erm, title of the person you were irritated at in that vision I saw.
[ With this being a place that existed beyond time, having been the home of creation even before any of them... ]
What did you all look like in here, then? A fancy place like this would have to have some fancy form of dress, right? Something sharp and stylish!
[ She's trying to imagine it now! ]
no subject
The citizens would wear plain white masks. The Convocation wore red so that they could be identified.
no subject
Wait, but. How would you tell anyone apart like that? From the non-Convocation people?
[ She blinks a few times, moving over and around to look him over. It's so... plain. But she does, at least, make an attempt to figure it out. ]
So... you have this wonderfully stylish place but you all moved around looking the same? Was it some kind of uniform, then?
no subject
Shutting his eyes for a few moments, he takes a few meditative breaths and lets them out slowly. His response, even after that, is clipped and restrained. ]
A uniform? No. 'Tis as much our cultural garb as whatever it is you Miqo'te wear.
[ He snaps his fingers and conjures several generic figures in a line outside Amaurot's sprawl: one member of each of Hydaelyn's races with random genders, bearing different clothing to mark out their professions. ]
Tell me: what would you think of each of these people if you met them? Generalisations are fine.
no subject
So, she turns to look at the generic figures, her ears lifting as she examines them. ]
What would I think..?
[ That they're just how people are? They have their professions and identities... but she has a feeling she'll be learning soon enough on where this goes. So she circles around them. ]
In general? They're just people presenting themselves with unique identifiers. The elezen here looks like he's a weaver. This one looks like a rich merchant. He's ostentatious! And this hyur looks like she's seen better days, but seems to be very into her art from the apron with paint on it.
[ Generalizations. But she turns to look over at him. ]
But that's what I think they do. It doesn't necessarily make them what their appearances show them to be, aye?
[ So... she tilts her head. ]
If that's your cultural garb... would that mean you all dressed the same, because you didn't want people assuming things about what you offered?
no subject
Correct. These masks the Convocation wore are only distinct because they are recognition of the unique talents and skills we nurtured or happened to be born with. We were all paragons of our respective fields.
[ He crosses his arms, taking a moment to settle his thoughts. If she is going to make the effort to listen then the least he can do is give her level answers. ]
For example... I was born with the ability to perceive aether in its truest form. There are few magicks or souls able to escape my gaze. This is how I repaired your materia, how I would be able to perceive you for who you truly are even if you were to don an entirely different mortal shell.
It was for this singular talent that I was granted the honour of becoming the next Emet-Selch.
no subject
Huh. That's actually smart. ]
Bloody amazing... I think I follow. By donning those robes, your people didn't let anyone think themselves above the other. The Convocation acknowledged you as being able to do something far more and had you take on the title of Emet-Selch... but you still maintained that equality.
[ She smiles, hands moving together in front of her in a pleased clap. ]
Emmy, that's brilliant! That way no one would want to fight each other. No wonder you wouldn't need weapons! And that ability... so you'd be able to see ghosts? Ah! You'll have to tell me about it proper soon! Though—
[ Wait. She turns back to look at him, her questions lingering on the forefront of her mind. ]
If you gained the title of Emet-Selch, what were you called before then? Didn't you have a birth name? And— your home. What was it called?
[ They had to have had a name for some place this wonderful looking. ]
no subject
Ah...
[ That's right, he hasn't mentioned its name to her yet, has he? He turns back to the ghostly city, laid out on the floor of the rooftop. The only life it has is in his memories now. ]
...It was called Amaurot.
[ He pointedly ignores her query about his name. She is far from having earnt that privilege. ]
no subject
Maybe it's because of the vision she had the first time she met, for there was a resonance in their thoughts— but the very name, "Amaurot", makes her stop and mouth it as though she was waiting for him to say it- she's not sure what happens then. It was a feeling that had been lingering when she first saw the city, having wanted to look at it closely as she viewed it, but now, with the name...
It was somewhere in her memories, the Echo likely having drawn it from when she experienced his memories, but it doesn't feel that strange.
Something about it feels nostalgic. ]
Amaurot.
[ She repeats, now that she's not echoing him, a hand moving to over her chest as she tries to reconcile why she's feeling that— she has absolutely no connection to this place, after all. And yet... ]
Call me crazy, but I feel like I knew that.
[ She says honestly— her ears flicking sheepishly as she looks at the glowing city ]
... what happened to it? You don't have to answer now if it's too painful. It's just...
[ She feels odd, all of a sudden, like she's afraid of learning. ]
no subject
...It has been several thousand years since it fell.
[ Yet it still hurts. Having to live in the shattered remnants of their star while the lesser races tore each reflection apart for resources or blind hate is like having a barb lodged and driven into one's skin. A painful, constant reminder of their loss.
He has told the tale several times now to different people. He relives the horror every night when he cannot help but fall asleep. The irregular rest is taking a visible toll on him, as she has noticed. ]
It was destroyed. Our own people destroyed it - in their fear and paranoia, the citizens manifested horrific beasts from their own imaginations and those beasts laid waste to the city. 'Twas the same all across the star - Amaurot was amongst the last to fall.
[ As he speaks, the aetherial diorama glows a hellish orange. Miniature therions and other, unfamiliar beasts descend upon Amaurot, burning and razing every building. Skyscrapers toppled and broke upon the slender walkways below, leaving behind ugly, twisted skeletons of a formerly elegant city. All that is missing are the bodies of the dead. ]
no subject
Well, maybe she should look into bothering him a little bit about it, very soon.
Because what he says makes her pale and the sight of it being ravaged makes her step back in horror, eyes wide as she watches the beautiful space suddenly start to fall apart. The monsters— whatever these creatures are, make her feel sick to see, and she turns to look at Emet-Selch in confusion. ]
Fear and paranoia? Of what? What could have possibly triggered something so horrible?
[ Even if this is just an illusion, she starts feeling a sinking feeling in her chest— for him to have to talk about this at all...
She feels bad for having had to ask but already, seeing just this much was enough to make her fascinated by the place... what did he go through, as being someone who actually lived there? ]
no subject
Even now we do not know. By all reports it began with a sound, resonating deep within the star. The outer settlements were the first to go silent. There were reports of creation magicks running unchecked. As this knowledge was disseminated, the people began to formulate wild theories as to the cause, leading to further spontaneous creations, dead townships, and fear.
As Amaurot collapsed around us, we - the Convocation - summoned Zodiark using the lives of half of the survivors. He rewrote the laws of reality and finally put an end to our calamity.
no subject
The mention of summoning Zodiark reminds her how shaken she was on learning that Zodiark- and Hydaelyn were primals, and she closes her fingers into her palm as she looks at the bow vanishing images of Amaurot. She's quiet for a bit, before looking up at him. ]
You... used the lives... of your own people...
[ Again, this is tough for her to follow, though she does try. ]
You've mentioned the conflict between Hydaelyn and Zodiark... though, I don't understand. If half the survivors lives were used to summon Zodiark, wouldn't a summoning temper those that were in a primal's thrall? At least... that's been my understanding of the primals the beastmen summon.
[ He told her before that they were summoned the same way primals on their home were. She looks back at the rooftop before turning back to watch him. ]
... what happened after your home was gone? What happened to the other ancients?
no subject
Our star was dying, [ he says flatly. ] The calamity had rendered it lifeless. Think of how many crystals it takes for some paltry spawn like Ifrit to be brought into being. Where, do you think, we could have sourced the aether required to bring forth our final, greatest creation if not from ourselves?
[ He rests a hand over his breast, where the heart (and soul) beats. ] They gladly gave their lives so that our people might live on. The Convocation - less the lone individual who stepped down from their seat - had been the one to perform the rite of imbuing the star with its will, thus it was we alone who were tempered by our god when He came into being.
[ His hand drops back to his side. He glances briefly at his mask, sighs, and waves it back to his apartment below. ]
The events which followed, I have already told you. During the battle between Them, Hydaelyn's blow struck at the heart of our deity, our star, and all were divided into the Source and its ten and three reflections. Zodiark was silenced, as was Her purpose. It mattered not who one had lent their voice to: all were sundered except for myself, Lahabrea, and Elidibus.
[ He meets her eyes directly and points at her face. ] Which is to say, every single one of you can trace your lineage back to the fragments of our surviving people. You, and the rest of the sorry mortals which populate the shards, are all that remain of them.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
1/2
2/2
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
cw: implied suicidal thoughts
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)